


Kiss Me, I'm Irish

by ras_elased



Category: SGA - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-17
Updated: 2007-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ras_elased/pseuds/ras_elased
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John drags Rodney off to a St. Patrick's Day parade. Fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me, I'm Irish

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after going to a St. Patrick's Day parade last Saturday. Everything that I mention in this fic is something that I actually saw in that parade, except for the clog dancers. *g* Also, this is unbeta'd, so if you find any mistakes please let me know. Thanks!

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[fic: kiss me i'm irish](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/fic%3A%20kiss%20me%20i%27m%20irish), [genre: fluff](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20fluff), [genre: romance](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20romance), [pairing: mcshep](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/pairing%3A%20mcshep), [rating: g](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/rating%3A%20g)  
  
  
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**Fic: Kiss Me, I'm Irish**   
_

Title: Kiss Me, I'm Irish

Author: Ras Elased

Rating: G  
Word count: 1,643

Summary: John drags Rodney off to a St. Patrick's Day parade. Fluff ensues.

Author's notes: I started writing this after going to a St. Patrick's Day parade last Saturday. Everything that I mention in this fic is something that I actually saw in that parade, except for the clog dancers. *g* Also, this is unbeta'd, so if you find any mistakes please let me know. Thanks!

 

~~~

 

Rodney was in the middle of a very intense, important project when Sheppard appeared in the doorway wearing low slung jeans and a bouncy grin. "Ready for some fun, McKay?"

 

"It case it's escaped your keen powers of observation, Colonel, I'm actually in the middle of—"

 

"Loitering in Carter's lab, trying to beat her high score on minesweeper while you wait for her to come back from lunch."

 

Rodney closed the window—Sheppard's interruption had ruined this round, anyway—and swung the laptop around to face John, showing him the nearly completed simulations he'd been running. John just raised an eyebrow at Rodney's glare. "I stand corrected," he smirked, clearly not buying it. "Now grab some civvies and get your ass topside in ten minutes, or I'm leaving without you."

 

Seventeen minutes later, Rodney exited the elevator to find John slouching against the wall in that way he had, still waiting. As they walked to the car John had borrowed from the base, it didn't even occur to Rodney to ask where they were going. He blamed the fact that John's t-shirt had ridden up, exposing a tan sliver of skin just above the top of his jeans. Clearly, John's hipbones had detrimental effects on his intelligence.

 

When they reached the downtown section of the city, John pulled up alongside the rows of cars lining the streets, squeezing into a tiny parking space. Then he opened the trunk, hauling out two cloth lawn chairs, the kind that folded up and fit into long sacks. Rodney was less than surprised to see they were both black. John handed one to Rodney as he asked, "What the hell are we doing here?"

 

John slung his chair-in-a-sack over his shoulder. "What day is it, Rodney?"

 

He blinked. "Wednesday?" Since when did Earth time matter to either of them, even back on Earth?

 

One corner of John's mouth quirked upwards. "Try again."

 

It was then that Rodney took a look at their surroundings, finally registering the multitude of people milling in the same general direction. They carried chairs and coolers, and were decked out in myriad shades of green, ridiculous strings of beads around their necks glinting in the morning sunlight. Several were wearing green bowler hats, and one had a giant green and orange jester cap, complete with baubly tassels. Rodney cringed as realization hit. "Oh, god."

 

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Happy St. Patrick's Day, Rodney."

 

~#~

 

They sat in front of a bar called Murphy's, and Rodney grumbled the entire time they got settled. ("Oh my god. We're surrounded by green, sparkly lemmings with questionable fashion sense." "C'mon, McKay, these are your people!" "Hardly. I'm Canadian!") Then John dashed off to use the bathroom. Several long minutes later, he came back carrying an armload of green. After he handed Rodney his unnaturally green beer, he said, "Don't want to get pinched, do you?" Then he proudly displayed the shirt he'd bought for Rodney, large white letters on a background of green: _Kiss me, I'm Irish._  


 

"I hate you," Rodney said mildly, and was answered with a balled up t-shirt in his face. Heaving the sigh of the terminally oppressed, he put the shirt on over his own sporting the structural model of a caffeine molecule, then took a drink of his tepid, horribly watered down green beer. He quickly spit it all back out again when he saw John's t-shirt. It was clearly a child's small, and sported a brightly colored rainbow and a leprechaun wearing a lecherous smirk, with the words _My lucky charms are magically delicious._  


 

John turned to Rodney with an expression to match the leprechaun's, obviously enjoying Rodney's reaction, then placed a green plastic bowler atop McKay's head. Rodney would have gladly ripped it off and snapped at John, but it was really quite sunny and his skin was very fair, so he figured he could sacrifice a little of his dignity in the face of melanoma. He sat back in his chair, drank his disgusting green beer without (much) complaint, and waited for the parade to start.

 

They were book ended on Rodney's side by a family sitting on a blanket, and on John's side by a couple in their seventies. The family had a handful of small children that Rodney was sure would drive him to distraction by the end of the parade, but the couple on Sheppard's side held each other's hands as they quietly watched the floats go by. They reminded Rodney of his parents, in the way that they thoroughly didn't.

 

The floats passed by, nearly all of them decorated with the standard motif of a rainbow and a pot of gold. There were the usual standards for a neighborhood parade: boy scouts, girl scouts, school marching bands, human interest groups, and businesses looking for a little cheap advertising. The fire-engines made the smaller children clap their hands over their ears to drown out the loud sirens, and one of the company floats shot glittering green confetti into the air that covered the spectators. John couldn't quite seem to get it all out of his hair.

 

Several groups handed out goodies, littering the streets with beads or candy tossed to the crowd. The kids on the blanket were making a good haul. When yet another float for some children's organization rolled by, a little blond girl with her hair tied back in a green ribbon rushed up to Rodney and held out a tiny handful of candy to him. He blinked at her, and she ducked her head. "Uh. For me?" She peeked at him through her lashes, then nodded at the ground. "Oh. Thank you." He collected the candy into his broad palms, and she dashed back to her place in the parade, giggling and blushing madly. Rodney was happily unwrapping a bit of hard butterscotch candy when he caught sight of John looking at him. "What?"

 

His blank stare would have been more convincing if John's eyes hadn't crinkled around the corners the way they always did when he smiled. "Looks like you've got an admirer, McKay."

 

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Oh, shut up," he said, and thrust tootsie pop in Sheppard's direction.

 

The parade continued on. Nearly every float was a variation on the rainbow-and-pot-of-gold theme, and Rodney felt vaguely offended that they hadn't tried to come up with something more creative. There were biker groups and Shriners that buzzed up and down their section of the street, and John cheered along with the crowd when two of the little Shriner cars nearly crashed. He tapped the back of Rodney's fingers every time he saw something cool go by, like the string of DeLoreans, or when it was something incredibly cheesy, like the float full of clog dancers. Then yet another high school marching band came by, and Rodney felt another lingering tap from John's fingertips. He followed John's gaze to see the flag team approach, a tall, smiling boy front and center, waving his flag proudly amidst the sea of girls. He was wearing sparkly green pants and a black shirt, and his hair looked almost exactly like John's. No sooner had Rodney spotted him than the boy turned and _winked_ at John. Rodney was fairly certain he'd never seen the Colonel blush so much in his _life_. "Looks like I'm not the only one with an admirer," he stated smugly.

 

John just rolled his eyes and poured half his beer into Rodney's nearly empty cup. Rodney hadn't even realized he'd been drinking it.

 

They watched the rest of the parade in relative silence, sun baked and warm. The children chattered like squirrels to their left, and the older couple to their right still held each other's hands. When the parade finally ended, Rodney stood on slightly tipsy legs, and John helped him fold up his chair and put it back into the sack. Then they hiked back to John's car, following the crowd once more, green glitter still sparkling in John's hair. Both sacks over John's shoulder made the too-small t-shirt ride up more, exposing John's lower back. Rodney had to remind himself not to reach out, to see if John's skin was as warm as it looked.

 

Rodney felt an odd looseness in his chest that he didn't think he could attribute entirely to the beer. He watched John from the corner of his eye. John's smile was relaxed and easy, and Rodney couldn't help but feel the corners of his lips turn up in response. When they reached the car, Rodney surprised himself, and reached out to not-quite touch John's arm. "Sheppard, I…Thank you. For this," he smiled a little sadly. He felt for the first time like he wasn't quite ready to leave, to head back to Pegasus and life as usual.

 

John looked at him for a minute, smiled back through eyes gone unnaturally green. Then he took a step closer, and one hand reached out to lift the plastic bowler off Rodney's head while the other gently wrapped around the back of his neck. John's lips were soft and sure and just as sweet as Rodney had always imagined. After one stunned moment, Rodney kissed back, his hands coming around to grasp at the hem of John's shirt.

 

With one final teasing brush of his warm, slick lips, John pulled away, but not out of Rodney's grasp. Belatedly, he opened his eyes to find John smirking at him. Rodney suspected he was wearing a rather unbecoming expression of slack-jawed confusion. John rapped the back of his knuckles lightly against Rodney's chest. "I'm just doing what the t-shirt says, McKay," he explained.

 

With a flick of his wrist, John placed the green plastic bowler atop his own glitter-laden head. "Now get in the car, so we can go home and you can get lucky."


End file.
